getou meets gojo on the first day of school.
never one to draw any attention to himself ever since he was young as was the family norm, he found it particularly baffling to see this silver-haired stranger do exactly that. and then some.
if he wasn't raising his hand to ask permission to go to the bathroom for the nth time or tease yaga-sensei by deliberately outsmarting him or pull his glasses down to annoy their only other classmate – shoko, was it? – he was on a heavy rotation doing a myriad of activities for the sole purpose of diverting attention from whatever was at present to, who would have guessed, gojo satoru.
granted, getou was raised differently.
born into a family that was neither nor or either or, he was taught from a very young age to value stealth and subtlety at all costs. assimilation was key to survival just as protection was tied with honour. he didn't think he was particularly special to be endowed with the moral responsibility of caring for the weak, but when he managed to exorcise his first curse at six and his father treated the entire family to wagyu that night – getou thinks maybe being significant wasn't so bad.
still he didn't go screaming about it every other second.
don't you think you're being too much?
he manages to mutter during a random class on a random day. only the increasingly self-absorbed prick was going on about the heart-shattering difficulties of being a six foot commuter during rush hour for probably a month now and getou had enough.
naturally, the man in question is taken back and addresses him with an amused glint in his eye and zero acknowledgement of the actual complaint.
well would you look at that, so you do talk.
already he can tell this is going nowhere. he thinks maybe he'll try another day, preferably one where shoko brings extra cookies courtesy of her mother and gojo all but gobbles up every last piece. he was always in a good mood when he had food stuffed in his mouth.
instead he turns back to his work with a grunt as response. unknown to him, this subtle gesture works wonders as gojo finally, blissfully shuts up as if he was wrapping his head around the almost incredulous notion of actually being ignored.
it lasts for a good three seconds.
anyway, as i was saying, so i get on the train during rush hour right..
it was going to be a long four years.
2006 / kyoto [京都]
getou sees gojo outside school for the first time.
only he doesn't so much see his classmate than he hears him. because once again the six foot man child was huddled in the corner just below the underbelly of the train station, crouched next to a small stall – a bakery? – animatedly talking to the woman behind the counter as he pointed at one confectionary to another.
what on earth could he be doing and how can i quickly appease whoever the hell he was offending, the older of the two thought as he made careful steps towards his loud classmate.
emphasis on classmate.
because even if gojo did technically save his life last week from a particularly brutal juryoku and they only got out by the skin of their teeth (and not at all their reluctant joining of heads as suggested – no, demanded – by shoko through a snide remark about high field scores and unbeatable techniques), gojo satoru was not a friend.
when getou gets near enough to properly hear their conversation, he stops dead on his tracks.
i heard this matcha one is really good.. oh and this daifuku one too.. 50% off on hanabira?! okay give me two.. since i'm in kyoto i should try the warabi one..
he only stands there, stunned beyond belief.
then suddenly everything clicked.
of course it made absolute sense for gojo to have a sweet tooth.
he doesn't know how he could have missed that glaringly obvious detail before. come to think of it, he's positive he's never seen him in class without a lollipop on his mouth or his signature abomination five-pumps-of-sugar starbucks order. with his constant yapping and jumping and overall energetic demeanor that seemed to never damper, surely some of that could be attributed to his obvious sugar high.
then he pales. because this overexcited teenager was always excited about everything and does that mean he was constantly eating sweets?! that's not healthy at all, i should tell him—
then suddenly there is a pair of black dr. martens sandals, navy blue nike loose-fit joggings, red checkered american apparel flannel – and a very amused gojo satoru in front of him.
surprised to see you here, 190cm tree says. didn't know you could leave tokyo this far out. or even leave at all, for that matter.
he curses himself for not even noticing he left the stall in the first place and covers the carelessness up with a gruff, unlike you, yaga actually trusts me to run errands. shoko also asked me to buy some things that weren't in the city.
gojo seems to consider this for a moment, lowering his black rayban pipers down to the tip of his nose bridge, before asking – you done?
it is a long ride back to tokyo on the shinkansen. but when gojo casually offers him some of the artisanal sweets from the shop and getou secretly uses some of the travel money to buy two bento boxes; it wasn't so bad.
2007 / harajuku [原宿]
getou and gojo meet amanai on a pouring afternoon.
they were already running a couple minutes late. partly because his partner spent too long styling his hair in the mirror – we're going to an all girls highschool what more do i have to explain – and the ride to the compound took even longer due to traffic congestion brought about by the untimely weather.
on their way to the conference room where the star plasma consort was to brief them, he makes a point to stop him just before they open the door. you'll behave right?
to his silent amusement, he at least looks mildly affronted. like he couldn't believe his best friend for a year now was actually talking down to him as if he were a mere child that needed to be coddled.
gojo raises an eyebrow, a corner of his lips turned upwards – who do you think i am? – before pushing his way in.
getou smirks in return. the one and only gojo satoru.
2007 / okinawa [沖縄]
getou thinks maybe there is a heart inside gojo after all.
he sees it when he looks over at amanai, eyes uncharacteristically soft and words kinder than he's heard him address anyone ever. his usual underbite was still there, only it came a bit hesitant this time.
they really couldn't afford another day.
but for all gojo was an aggravation to humanity, he was a damn good jujutsu sorcerer. he played his cards right and delegated his skills accordingly and always did what had to be done for the job. in every essence of the word, he was untouchable. he – they – were the strongest like that.
so when he personally asked him to look the other way just this once; almost the same time he catches him glancing over their charge to make sure she wasn't tripping over the sea crabs, he knows in his heart this is more than just a mission for gojo.
but that's okay, he was there. together they were inseparable and unbeatable.
2008 / tokyo [東京]
getou sees gojo getting stronger by the day.
what began as a simple jack of all trades was increasingly becoming a genius that only came in a decade.
sure, maybe they did both start out on equal footing. maybe even won against each other from time to time. if it wasn't getou headlocking him to the ground with one of his curses, it was gojo seizing control of the very space they moved in and manipulated the elements to his favour.
they were back and forth, push and pull just like that. it was easy, natural, and a constant they unconsciously grounded themselves on.
but then amanai happened. then shortly after toji.
then gojo wasn't speaking to either of them about the difficulties of being born with his genetic tall height, so much as he was demanding them to rise with him together. he stopped stress-eating his way through lessons, so much as he was on a constant buzz, always moving and yelling and getting stronger and demanding them to get stronger with him.
he was always wearing himself thin one way or another; but this time he was running himself dry, burning through too much midnight oil he barely saw daylight even with all those six eyes. he was a ticking time bomb, simmering and coiling in anxiety and grief but living every day as if he wasn't.
getou had a hard time catching up, but shoko had it harder.
more than once he's had to forcibly hold him down as he went charging on her for probably the hundredth time since he got back, as if her incompetence to match a wronged god was through no fault other than hers.
then the old crook made him the legal guardian of the son whose father he killed and everything went to shit.
getou has always walked on eggshells – either out of childhood habit or one of the many job discrepancies, he doesn't know – but now he was barely holding himself up on thin ice. there is a ripple for every self-destructive move gojo makes, and his very vibration affects everyone else tip-toeing around his dominion.
when toji's son sat in on one of their sessions and casually asked where's my father and gojo went dead silent and he was more concerned about the aftermath of his best friend killing a six year old than the killing itself, getou thinks for the first time maybe he is going just as crazy.
until finally, the shells and ice beneath him give way and he is drowning in sorrow that wasn't solely his.
so he tries the hardest he has ever tried grounding this flightless soul of a man, wiping his ledger clean of all the red reminding him of the white he's done good, telling him time and time again you are a good person in a bad world and that is enough.
only his reach doesn't quite get there and there is an infinity between both of them, only this time gojo isn't to blame.
instead the strongest jujutsu sorcerer extends the lines because he can. until they are not so much lines as they are the very red strings binding himself to everyone else in his life, because for every life he has taken plenty more will grow in its place.
the vast expanse of distance between himself and those life lines are ones he can't control but why don't you just try harder please i can't afford any weakness because that's what got her killed and she was still so young like megumi and—
more than getting stronger, getou sees him losing himself slower.
if this world was the one responsible for making him that way, maybe there needed to be some changes.
2009 / shibuya [渋谷]
getou sees gojo for the last time.
where there should have been some form of guilt, there is only a sense of tranquility as two boys who had to grow up to become men too quickly look each other in the eye – as in really look – because gojo had six eyes that saw past every tiny thing and getou had too many tricks up his sleeve neither of them wanted to be disadvantaged.
when shoko asked him do you regret it? and he replied without a moment of hesitation nah, maybe that was the beginning of the end.
only his best friend has not only somehow snapped the infinite threads together until they formed a uniform line, he uses the very same strokes to somehow drag him back. as if through sheer force of will he could, because this is not a matter of who was the strongest anymore – it was who had the most pull.
magnetic gojo was, getou was already repelled beyond retribution.
only there is a single moment of hesitation between searching for him by reading between the lines and threading their severed ties together where the man before him falters, as if he wanted to give up finding and just wanted to be seen already that neither of them acknowledge.
they were supposed to have four years; gojo thinks it's lucky they even got two. still he wasn't the strongest for nothing. he still had time left before the beginning of their end sizzled fire and buried itself along whatever was left of their wake.
they were robbed two years, but gojo decided he was only going to need one.